Sleepless Nights
by Ou-Rex
Summary: I used to have purpose in this world, but I desired the carnal pleasures and material greed above all else. Many a nights I found myself at the wake of another sleepless night as I worry and ponder these dreams and their meanings.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Morrowind.**

**Sleepless Nights**

I was woken up with a start. The ship finally arrived at port, although as to an idea of what port: I had none. A Dunmer male stood across from me as I pushed my weary body into a sitting position. I could feel s each bone shuddered from disuse. The Dunmer was bald. Running down the right half of his face was an old battle scar, his eye enduringly healed shut by the old wound. He murmured something about a storm and my strong sleeping habits, alas, all that I could take note of were his mentions of arrival. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I could hear the Dunmer call warning of the Guard's approach. How I despised that guard. Quickly did I have to care for the growing scowl on my face as the Imperial stalked up to me. Such aggravating creatures Imperials were. How dare they imprison me. With a brute tone the dirty looking man demanded I follow him. He clearly had had no sleep in the past few hours as the purplish-black markings under his eyes wrinkled as he spoke. Pushing myself onto the deck where a Redguard kept watched, I brushed my tired soles flatly against the somewhat wet wooden grounds as I walked.

Politics. For the next hour I was passed from hand to hand listening as the men vaguely spoke about my duties to the Empire as payment for being set free. Fools, false incarceration does not bid me to bow at your heels. I was hastily pushed through the system, and given a message to take to a man somewhere in Balmora, wherever that was, it was not as if I cared.

Seyda Neen was what they called the muck hole they dumped me in. It was a rather small town, surrounded by swamp and muck pits. Irritating creatures barked "Dark Elf" wherever I turned. Clearly they severely lacked the proper manners to address such a race as grande as mine, but as I was, their sharp words held some merit. Vile. All they had left me with of my former glory as a Nobleman from Mournhold were ragged commoner's clothing, base Imperial Politics. They see it lawful to throw an innocent man in prison for consorting, mildly put, with a worthless nobleman from an Imperial Family. His heart was mine to break, but money seems to solve all problems, even those of a broken heart. I could only smile when I heard that soon after the nobleman was given the news of my incarceration and execution did he see fit to take his own life.

The first night in Seyda Neen I slept well at the inn. I had little gold but after taking a few liberties from the Census House -- well they owned me much and in comparison I took little. After my rest, I felt greatly refreshed. By the time I awoke, it was almost dark out, many hours did I sleep, but it was finally time to set off. Originally I was told to make my way toward the west road toward Balmora, but I had little care to obey some Imperials, so I set out for the east path toward a place they called Pelagiad. The trip took me nearly half a day on foot. I was growing ill at ease with my clothing. With the little gold I had left I saw fit to purchase a decent robe to cover my drab attire, it was still commoner clothing but much cleaner looking than those rags. I took refuge at the local hostelry known as Halfway Tavern. It was not as crowded at the hostelry in Seyda Neen so it would suffice for now. I offered up what little gold I had left and took a room for the night. I was exhausted from my recent venture. I also felt sticky…

Morning quickly arrived. I was well rested but still very sticky. It was particularly hot that eve so I questioned the publican of the whereabouts of the washing facilities. The Dunmer female simply stared at me and stifled a laugh, as did the others near enough to hear my seemingly foolish request. I should have guessed there were no washing rooms, seeing the … patrons of the tavern. So I leave. After some questioning of locals, who disgusted me to no end, and because of my unkempt appearance, also disgusted them, I discovered that Balmora was a rather large city, and possibly my sanctuary from my own filthy stench.

It took me another half day to make it to Balmora on foot. It probably would have taken me less time if it had not been for the vile cave rats that littered the foyada passé toward Fort Moonmoth which sat at the fork to Balmora.

Civilization at last! I still refused to cooperate with the filthy Imperials and had long since disposed of that package. There was no skin off my flesh for disregarding the Imperials, after all much of the information they received from me were mostly falsified to begin with, Almalexia forbid they learned of my true background, and shame my family. I had no gold to sleep nor to afford washing. I stooped into bathing in the river just outside the city, luckily for me it was clean water. It was one thing to enter the city looking like a beggar, but to smell like one was unthinkable. I needed rest; I was so tired, especially from that half day trip and fending off those insufferable cave rats! In an ironic turn of situations, I was lead to the house of Drarayne Thelas, a Dunmer keep of a bed and breakfast. She was having trouble with a rat infestation. In trade to sleeping without pay I offered to slay the vermin. I was soon nestled in a warm bed, and quickly headed to a sound sleep.

I needed work, something hard to admit, but a necessity none-the-less if I was going to eat something more than roots and rat meat for the rest of my now miserable life. I was certainly not built for manual labor, at least not until my body was more tuned for this rugged landscape. I did, however, have a high skill for the Magical Arts and decided to spend my time in the local Mage's Guild training my body by running small errands. I was soon sent to Mzuleft in the Shoegrad region. I was growing ill of my errands, yes I did rather enjoy the perks of being a Wizard, but I did detest working for those ill-mannered Breton, ugly creatures as well. I do have to admit I have grown used to the traveling, but still I needed as much rest as possible before I would continue on, and still grew tired rather quickly when traveling.

After a much needed rest in Dagon Fel I worked my way to Mzuleft. Edwinna Elbert's generic and short worked directions did no good. The local Nords helped even less. All were nothing: rubbish simpletons. I headed out into the inland. The mountainous lands of Sheograd were littered with Cliff Racer nests. I was quickly growing irate and tired from having to fight off the territorial creatures. Before I completely collapsed, I managed to find a small Ancestral Tomb. It had started to rain so I took shelter within the sepulcher. I could not sense any enemies around me, so I found it safe to rest at the top of the crypt's entrance. I do not sleep as soundly as I usually do. My body felt rather heavy, I try and convince myself it was only the cumbersome aura of the dead. It did not work as whatever it was weighing my body down pressed further against me. I slowly open my eyes, there staring into my blood red pupils were white, pupil-less orbs. It was a rather well dressed male, Imperial over my body, pressing his weight against my own. I try to push up but I find my hands pushed back against the ground at my sides. He is breathing heavily staring at me. I am find myself unnaturally speechless. My usual calm is shattered by this presence he holds.

He murmurs strange things to me, although I find myself deaf as I stare into his eyes, his face only inches from mine. My breath hitches when I feel his weight shift over my body. He chuckles. My mind is scrib jelly now. I lost all logical thought, the possible thought that this man would kill me, although he was dressed in extravagant attire that equaled mine. Suddenly my thoughts return as I could feel something warming, yet wet, run down my neck. By Almalexia's healing hands! He was licking my neck! Fiend! How dare you! My body suddenly stiffens when I feel him stop his ministrations. I spoke my words aloud… The man spoke. He did not seem angered by my words, but moreover, prompted to persist in his activity. I was quickly submitting to his works finding myself moving for more of the stranger's attentions. I realized that he had let my wrists free, but before I could act on the instinct to escape this disturbing aura, my body began to wholly submit to the infection practice he took to my flesh. Before I was allowed to sink further into my deep, dark thoughts I felt two, long, sharp teeth bit into my neck. I try to gasp out but my voice has gone from me as I begin to feel my consciousness slip away.

I awoke; I had no sense of how long I had been asleep. I quickly pushed into a sitting position, only to groan in pain feeling my bones heave from sleeping on a stone floor with no bedding. My dark skinned hand shot up and slapped against my neck. A dream? My eyes narrowed. A very … different dream. I had been in this muck put far too long, it was affecting my strong-willed nature. My head felt as if it were swimming against the breaking waves of the Sea of Ghosts. It was terribly cold on that floor, and I had trouble recalling my destination. I soon found myself wandering along the coast. I had found it unusual that I was not as tired as before when traveling far, for I had made my way back to Dagon Fel to ride the boats to Khuul. I was not able to locate, or even remember, what that Breton wanted from the ruins; I really could care less at the moment. I was hungry, and in need of washing, so I stayed at the Temple. This is when it began.

My sleep would become disturbed: rousing to the sound of strange noises, and my body overheating from light bedding. I continued my work at the Mage's Guild. I was soon able to afford proper residence in a long abandoned home in Balmora. One night I rouse from my sleep in a heavy sweat. My dream was disturbing.

_In the dream I saw a beautiful Dunmer woman holding an infant to her breast. As I grew near it was only than I realized she was a desiccated corpse and the child was purple and bloated, dying of plague. As the mother and child crumbled to dust I awoke._

My mind was swimming and my body ached. Soon after I left Balmora to do some light Mage work in Sardith Mora. My dreams grew increasingly frightening. I continued to travel, sometimes deep into the Grazelands. Fending off wild beasts and traveling no longer took such grievous tolls on my body as they once did. One night I spent an eve in the city of Maar Gan after making a trip to deal with a Necromancer. She was a Dunmer woman, and claimed be not of this art, but in the stead a healer. I demanded proof but slew her for her lies as she claimed me to be suffering from an illness, but to the opposite of her claims I felt healthier than a mating Kagouti. The dream that night was by far the most frightening, such it was that I swore never to think or speak of it again. I rose from my fitful slumber and dressed. I stepped outside into the bright morning sun, only to feel worse off than before. I felt drained and my skin was heated. I decided to spend the rest of the morning indoors, I felt not like dealing with the morning heat.

My temper seemed to increase as the hours past. My rest continued to be interrupted by these horrifying dreams. When nightfall came, I made my way to the temple, ignoring the dirty stares given to me by jealous commoners, who lusted after my new found wealth. One man took as far as to attack me. I swiftly put an end to his miserable life; he would turn out better that way. The guards of course did nothing to stop the Bosmer from his attack, surely as fellow Dunmers they were glad I put an end to his sort, misgoverned life. I sat at the temple altar, praying. The priests were acting rather odd, watching me as I moved about the temple. I suspected because of the town's close ties with the Redoran, who were particularly obnoxious when it came to strangers in their territory. As I left I heard a muted shout of a priest, calling slander to my body. "_Vampire"_. Did I hear correctly? These Redoran were insane, so I quickly returned to Balmora. I was growing increasingly concerned with my lack of sleep. It was turning me into a paranoid skooma addict. Everywhere I went I heard whispers, and the daylight only grew increasingly annoying, my body constantly overheated, forcing me to stay the sleepless days in my home. I frequented the bookshop in Balmora, reading up on various subjects. The shopkeep seemed edgy; she would always grow busy when I approached. The Hlaalu guard quickly spat slurs at me. "_Go Away Vampire!" _Was it some sort of Vvardenfell slang? I searched the shop until I finally located a book entitled "_Vampires in Vvardenfell_". This could certainly help me! I read, and read, and reread. I could not believe the words spoken in these pages. Did those in Vvardenfell truly suffer true vampiric attacks?! I dropped the book to the ground and ran. I continued to run; soon I was out of the city. I ran as far as my feet could take me before I could feel my body overheat again. I looked up, and there was the sun on the horizon. It was true… I continued my race against myself until I finally found a place to hide from the rising star which now was my enemy.

In the eve I left my shelter and made my way through the dark grounds of the Red Mountain region. I soon found myself at Maar Gan. "_Vampire_!" the Redoran Dunmer called. I turned m y head to face him, he shook in fear. I could smell it permeating from his dark flesh. It was here. It was because of here. My mind was exhausted, my life, I suddenly realized, was now gone. You took it away! I somehow yelled this aloud as the man turned to run, but no longer did I care, no longer did it matter. My hands gripped tightly as I released a spell against his feet, trapping his whole being in paralysis. My mind was empty. I could only see blood. I pounded my fists against the Dunmer's collapsed body. The rhythmic thumping sound along with the occasional crack was satisfying to my mind, soothing it slightly. A woman nearby screamed. She quickly grew to irate me once more. Before I could realize my hands gripped around her neck and I pressed. There was no blood, but I could feel her life slipping away, and bringing to me a new strength. My body was restored, but my mind was still broken. I cursed her life before her eyes rolled to the back of her head and she hang limp in my grip. I dropped her lifeless corpse to the ground and continued to ravage the commoners and the Redoran guards. No one would survive in Maar Gan. I would once again sleep.

The gods seemed to have breathed a curse onto me, for even lying with my hands and face, clothes and shoes coated in the blood of those of Maar Gan I could not sleep! I could not rest! These dreams stirred my mind, I felt myself spiraling into Oblivion! The rage was clawing out against my skull. I went back outside and looked around. Body of priests, Redoran guard and commoner alike lay strewn in piles around the small city. Bodies were burned from destructive spells, bones broken and bruised from the bare beatings my fists rendered. It was too quiet now. I needed something to drown out the noise. There I heard the calls of a siren. My head rises from its despair. There standing before me was a Daedra. His dark red eyes stared into my white, pupil-less ones. He turned and walked away. His silent voice beckoned me. I followed.


End file.
